Through Darkness and Shadow
by pyrofaeri12041
Summary: Legolas's sister Ari emerges half-elf half-nazgul after the battle of Pellanore Fields. Aragorn's half brother emerges from hiding after being found as a servant of Sauron. How do these two fit together? Reads better than it sounds, I swear.
1. Default Chapter

Hey, you know the drill, I only own what doesn't appear in the LOTR books or movies. boo.

(This is my first time doing this, so reviews are welcome, etc. And yes, I am aware that I am taking certain liberties with the story, so please don't flame me for that. Enjoy!)

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From atop the battlements of Minas Tirith, Gandalf, White Wizard of the North, watched as a black mass of riders as they crossed the barren plains towards the White City.

"Gandalf, what can you see?" the Hobbit beside him asked.

"Their banner is a black horse running on a red field..." the Wizard trailed off. "Almost 600 strong."

The Hobbit stared. "How can you tell?"

"Practice." The wizard clapped him on the shoulder. "At least they came."

"But how do you know that they're not spies from Mordor?" Pippin asked as the riders drew nearer. "The last time-"

"Trust me, Master Peregrine. All will be well. The troops will be most welcome, I assure you."

Before the Hobbit could reply, an Elf entered the battlements. A woman, she had flowing russet hair and emerald green eyes. A quiver of arrows and a bow were strapped to her back, and a curved scimitar hung from her waist. As she joined the men at the wall, her sharp eyes scanned the same scene.

"Reinforcements?" she asked in a slightly accented voice.

Gandalf nodded. "With the archers you brought yesterday and the horsemen coming now, we will at last be over ten thousand strong."

"But we know now that Sauron has almost three times that many!" the girl protested, pointing over the chain of mountains to where the dark fires of Mordor were easily visible. "We won't stand a chance against his Urk-Hai and Warg riders!"

"Lady Elentàri," Gandalf interrupted firmly, light eyes boring fiercely into her own, "you were not there when the Helm when all of the legions were arrayed against us, only two thousand men, children, elves, and a dwarf. Your brother said the exact same thing to Lord Aragorn then, but he soon learned better. We turned the tide at Helm's Deep and we shall do the same here, for the very fate of Middle Earth lies in our hands." He slammed his hand angrily down on the weathered stone of the wall. "We will not fall. We _must_ not fall!"

The Elvin girl opened her mouth to protest, but the Hobbit grabbed her by the wrist. "Leave it be Ari," he whispered. She glared at him for a moment, and then shut her mouth reluctantly.

The legion of horsemen reached the main gates of the City, silver trumpets heralding their arrival.

"Let them enter and be welcomed as our allies," Gandalf commanded, and the heavy oaken gates of the lower level swung open to admit them. One after another, the black armored men trotted in on coal black horses, lining up in perfect formation in the courtyard. Ari nodded in grudging approval- they were trained almost as well as the Elvin archers she had brought from Mirkwood the day before. As the last rider entered, a flag ran up the main pole atop the barracks, fluttering in the breeze next to the standards of the other companies in attendance. The breeze shook it open- a huge black stallion galloping across a blood-red field. Elentàri started when she saw the banner, immediately turning to Gandalf with a deadly glare.

"I always wanted to know how they do that so quickly," he nodded to the flapping standards, oblivious to the younger woman's rage.

Below, a groom ran to take the head of the mysterious arrival's spirited mount. As the stallion pranced and pawed, the tinny sound of barked orders and clanking metal drifted up to the observers as the battalion dismounted and prepared to stable their mounts. Patting his stallion affectionately on the muzzle, the commander spoke quickly to the groom, who pointed up to where the three were standing. The man nodded, and pressed a shiny coin into the groom's hand before he led the horse away.

As the commander made his way towards the spiraling stairway to battlements, another man broke from the column and began to follow him. The leader shook his head, but apparently his officer was not in the mood to obey. Shaking his head, he bean to climb the steep ascent to where the Wizard, Pippin, and a very angry Ari waited.

"You two keep quiet, and let me handle him," Gandalf spun around suddenly, making his companions blink in surprise. "Especially you, Lady Elentàri. I don't want you maiming, hurting, or abusing the lad in any way before I get to speak with him."

Thoroughly riled, she shot a pleading look at the Hobbit, who shrugged in confusion. Before he could reply, the gruff shouts of the Warden drifted up the stairway. The commander of Gondor's garrison had taken it upon himself to make himself the door-warden, and no one was willing to brave his wrath and convince him otherwise.

"Not just anyone can go up there, you know," his angry voice bellowed. "Especially strangers who have no business being here at all!"

Even the Elf, with her super-keen hearing, could not hear the man's response. But even the brooding Elf princess grinned when they heard his responding roar of outrage.

"We may want to rescue him before Grant hacks his head off or the like," Pippin observed wryly.

"And deny me the pleasure?" Ari muttered loud enough for only Gandalf to hear.

The Wizard gave her an exasperated look, then called for the Warden to let the two men up. Grant arrived a few moments later, huffing up the steep stairs with his short legs.

"Gandalf, sir, these two ruffians demanded that they see you at once," he gasped, halting in front of the imposing Wizard. "I told 'em no, but you said..."

"It's alright Grant; go back to your post." Muttering to himself, the Man headed back down the stairs, leaving the two newcomers alone with the company.

Immediately, both knelt on one knee, one fist crossed over their chests.

"Don't kneel," Gandalf sighed, raising them to their feet. "I am no king, I am just conveniently in charge. And you may remove your helms, for I remember how dreadfully uncomfortable they are."

Obediently, both men tore off their helmets, the shorter managing to shake himself free faster than his commander. He had a sunny face with a liberal splashing of freckles, and a shock of starling red hair that was plastered to his head with sweat.

"Mithrandir? But we heard that Lord Aragorn would be here from-"

"Durian." Ari hissed in a deadly snarl as the other man removed his helmet. Tall and lanky, with tanned skin, dark eyes, and curly hair that touched his shoulders, he was the spitting image of his half-brother, Lord Aragorn.

"Tristan has a problem with believing everything he is told." he drawled, ignoring the girl's outburst. "I told him Lord Aragorn would be here and he nearly wet himself with excitement. Lord Aragorn is his hero, you see."

The redhead blushed crimson. "Durian tends to exaggerate himself overmuch."

Gandalf laughed heartily. "Well then Master- Tristan, I gather? - I hope I live up to your expectations, although I am not so kingly as Aragorn, so we can prove this scoundrel wrong." Tristan blushed again and bowed himself away, tripping over his feet as he went.

"I am glad you came, Durian," Gandalf turned to face him. "I did not know if my riders would reach you in time, or if you would come at all."

"I couldn't miss it. And, it looks as if you could use the reinforcements." Durian laughed. "But where is my dear, heroic brother?"

The smile slid quickly from Gandalf's face. "He has taken his own path. Where he is, I cannot say."

Durian looked away sadly. "The Paths of the Dead. I had heard him speak of it, before he left."

"At least you have come though, here at the end of all things." Gandalf forced himself to brighten. "I don't believe you have seen yet the Lady Elentàri, and my companion, Master Peregrine Took?"

As if shot, Durian spun around to face the two, the former of whom was being forcibly restrained by the surprisingly strong Hobbit.

"Behave yourself Ari. This is not the time or place for vengeance." Pippin hissed at her. "You're making a scene!"

"I swore to the Valar that I would kill him," she replied, not stopping her struggle to reach him. "And I intend to see it done. Let me go!"

"Lady Elentàri, I am pleased to see you again," Durian broke into their tirade in her language.

"Surprised to see me alive you mean, traitor?" she spat, finally wrestling free of Pippin's hold and stalking over to stand toe-to-toe with the stricken Ranger.

"Ari, if you would let me explain," he stuttered, suddenly loosing all façade of bravado when stared down by her eerie eyes.

"No. Nothing short of death will make me believe anything you have to say to me this time, Dunèdurian. You should watch your back, Ranger, because I will kill you." Eyes blazing with so much hatred that it bordered on insanity bored into frightened brown orbs. "By the Valar, I swear that I will see you dead." Turning on a heel she stormed away, leaving the feeling of a passing storm and an awkward silence behind her. Pippin looked frightened by the outburst and confused as to what he should do. He decided to stare over the barren field of Gondor to the distant fires of Mount Doom rather than at the man who had so upset Ari.

"What was that all about my Lord?" Tristan demanded, scurrying out of his hiding place and standing next to Durian.

"Never you mind," he snapped, suddenly fining himself able to move. "My Lord Gandalf, I must go."

Deeply troubled by the display, Gandalf looked closely at his friend for a while without speaking. "I may have forgiven you, Dunèdurian, but many have not. Among some peoples, the past dies hard. You would do well to avoid the Lady Elentàri in the future until she is ready to listen."

Durian sketched a curt bow, and then strode off in the direction of the stairs. Tristan bounded after, looking like a wounded puppy that has no idea why he is in trouble.

Soon as they were out of earshot, Pip scurried over to stand next to Gandalf again.

"What was that all about?" he asked, looking up at him curiously. "I didn't think Elves ever lost their tempers! And what's this about Strider having a brother?"

"I forgot your insatiable appetite for questions," Gandalf sighed, looking out over the fields towards Mt. Doom, where little specks circled the mouth of the perpetually erupting volcano. "Durian hurt Ari and her family very deeply, and very badly, many years ago. He is the reason Ari came here...he had a hand in the destruction of Mirkwood."

"And you let him into Gondor? It sounds like he may be a servant of the Enemy!" Pip's eyes widened. "And he's Strider's brother?"

"It was a long time ago, and his heritage is a very long tale to tell indeed. I helped him heal, and I am sure he is no longer under Sauron's spell."

"But does Lady Ari know that?"

"It will take her time to trust again. I pray they don't kill each other before then." Gandalf sighed. "I would not have asked him here unless we need his men."

"You'll work it out Gandalf, you always do," Pippin smiled up at him confidently.

"I will try," he ruffled the Hobbit's curls before looking back at the wheeling Nazgûl. "Although I feel that it may take more than is in my power to fight that war as well.


	2. Calm Before the Storm

Once again, I own nothing of Tolkien's wonderful world. double boo.

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Ari stormed through the City, not heeding the angry shouts of the people she mowed over in her rush to get back to her camp.

"Merrill? Where are you?" she snapped as she entered her large tent at the center of the Elvin encampment.

"Lady Ari, what's happened?" her second-in-command jumped up from the table she had been writing at, scattering piles of papers everywhere. "Is everything alright?"

"I knew I should have finished this years ago. I only pray that it's not too late to save us all," she snarled as she dove into a carved oak chest at the back of the tent.

"Who?" Merrill threw her hands in the air as her commander began tossing objects haphazardly from the chest onto the fur-covered floor. "Lady, I'm afraid I don't understand!"

Elentàri rocked back on her heels and glared at her friend in frustration. "Dunèdurian has turned up again, Merrill. This time, he arrives on the eve of battle with 600 horsemen, and Gandalf wishes me to trust him. I feel in my soul that Sauron's attack and Durian's arrival are not by mere chance. I_ will_ finish what I should have long ago- his death."

"Lady, please wait. You don't know what may have passed while we were besieged. Gandalf may have helped him in some way. He may have changed."

"Traitors don't change Merrill. Never. We came here to garner aid for Mirkwood, and _he_ shows up. The very man who brought the Darkness into our home and _destroyed it._ Or did you forget Merrill?"

Her lieutenant took a step back at the venom in her eyes. "I haven't forgotten."

"Then you have become weak." Ari turned back to her trunk, and emerged with a handful of ebony handled daggers and strips of leather. Standing, she strapped two daggers on either arm, and shoved two more into the tops of her boots. Quickly plaiting her hair, she fastened it up with two thin stilettos. Unhooking her scimitar from her belt she replaced it with a fine blade that she found hanging on a camp chair.

"If I don't come back Merrill, you're to look after the troops. Follow Gandalf and Lord Aragorn if he comes, and protect my dolt of a brother, if he ever turns up again. He will be king when this foul war is over, and he will need a sound head amongst the court."

"Ari, please stop for a second. This is certainly not the way to go about this," Merrill protested, pointing to the darkening sky. "The Darkness is spreading. We cannot afford to fight amongst ourselves, not this close to the eve of battle."

"And I cannot suffer to let that man live any longer with the memory fresh in mind that he killed my father and brother." She strode to the tent flap and lifted it before pausing. "Swear to me Merrill that you won't tell Legolas unless the war is over, or I die. He needs to be clear-headed these coming days."

"I swear, my lady."

"You have been a good friend. May the Valar protect you."

Just as she stepped outside the tent, an unearthly shriek rent the skies, followed by a shockwave that sent the Elf sprawling. A whining vacuum followed, then a spiral of green energy flashed up through the sky.

Ari cursed as she struggled to her feet, sensitive ears ringing from the noise. "Merrill?"

"Lady! What's happening?"

"I do not know." She shook her head to clear it, all senses straining towards the revolving pillar of energy. "I fear the worst. Gather the troops, send the archers to the wall. I'm to find Gandalf."

Merrill nodded and flew off, while Ari thrust her way through the crowds to the center of the City.

It took her nearly an hour to reach the garrison, for the streets of Minas Tirith were crowed with anxious citizens frantically trying to find shelter or loved ones. Ari was once again reminded of her intense dislike of cities and crowds in general, longing for the quiet forests of her homeland. Her homeland. The reason she had come to Minas Tirith in the first place. Squaring her shoulders, she left the bustle of the streets for the ruckus of the Gondorian's headquarters.

"Where is Gandalf?" she demanded of the first man she could lay hand on.

"No one has seen him Lady," the man replied breathlessly. Ari released him and he hurried off. Thinking quickly she headed back to the streets and up the levels to the Mithrandir's apartments.

"Gandalf!" she banged on the door urgently. "Gandalf!"

The door swung open, as if of its own accord. Confused, she looked down and smiled. "Pippin, I'm sorry. Is Gandalf in?"

"Yes, but he's headed down to the garrison. Did you see-?"

"That's why I'm here." She did a double take. "Pip? Is that the uniform of the House?"

"They are." He puffed out his chest proudly, then deflated a bit. "Although I am frightened as to what Lord Denethor will have me do."

She knelt until she was face-to-face with him. "Oh Pip, you have been so brave to have come this far. I believe that you have so much that you haven't shown us...your part in this story isn't over yet."

He smiled slightly. "I certainly hope not. I just worry about Merry, and Gandalf, and Lord Aragorn...even you."

"Pip. What does your heart tell you about your cousin?"

"That he is still alive." He said after a pause.

"Then it is certainly so." She leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his forehead. "Save your worries Master Pippin. All will be turned right in the end."

"Indeed it shall." Gandalf broke in, from his vantage point leaning against the wall. "Lady Ari."

"The men are frightened, and the people of the City have panicked. What's happening?"

"The worst, I fear. Sauron has woken the Witch King at Minas Morgul. His army marches for us as we speak."

"How long?"

"A day, maybe two."

Ari closed her eyes. "So it begins."

"Do not fear Elentàri. This is not the end."

"Nay, just the beginning." She opened her eyes. "I follow you Gandalf, to whatever end. But now, the men at the garrison and the City need you."

He squeezed her shoulder. "Then I must go. Take care Ari, for in the days to come I feel that we shall not be seeing much of each other."

To her surprise, she felt a lump form in her throat. "Melain berio le." She whispered.

He squeezed her shoulder, then swept out of the room. Pippin hugged her around her middle. "Be careful, my Lady."

"You too, my brave Hobbit. Don't let a Nazgûl carry you off for its supper."

"I won't." he touched the blade at his side. "I'm not going down without a fight."

"May the Valar protect you." She kissed him again. "Good bye Master Pip."

"Elebreth bless you." He gave her a quick smile, and then scampered after Gandalf. Alone in the room, staring at the twisting pillar of power, she felt the cold reality of the situation sink in. Stepping to the balcony, she placed her hands on the cool stone and felt the deep power radiating from it. The City had withstood many assaults, and if she had her way, this one too. As she looked to Minas Morgul, her keen ears picked out the chilling scream of one of the Nazgûl's fell beasts, and it made her blood run cold. Shivering, she had an odd sense of foreboding as the cry came again. Shaking her head at her own frivolity, she turned on a booted heel and headed for the armory.


	3. The Beginning of the End

Three guess as to what I don't own, and the first two don't count.

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_Three days later..._

"Durian!" a strong hand shook his shoulder, to which he turned on his side and faced the wall of the tent. "Durian!" the shaking became more urgent.

"Hu-what?" he groaned, glaring at the intruder through slitted eyes.

"Get up fool! Sauron's army is within a mile of the City!" Tristan shook him harder. "Gandalf says we have but a few hours before his catapults are in range! We must ready the men!"

At the mention of Sauron's name, Durian snapped to full wakefulness. "Sound the company assemble. Where's my dratted armor?"

Stumbling around his tiny tent in a half-drunken stupor, he dunked his head in a bucket of water to clear it. Slapping his armor and weapons on haphazardly, he became aware of the roll of giant drums in the distance, echoed by the screams of the citizens of the White City. Cursing, he flew outside, to find his horse Telumehetar already saddled and waiting for him, Tristan holding the reins.

"Thanks," he grunted as he swung into the saddle. "Tell the men to form up at the Gate."

Tristan gave him a salute, the grabbed his leg. "Durian, watch yourself. The Eye is upon us-"

"Do not worry about me." He snapped, rubbing his right arm absently. "Just take care of yourself. I'm going to find Gandalf."

His second sprang back as he spurred his ebony mount towards the teeming city. The roll of drums sounded louder, more intense. To his left, the pillar of energy pulsed in time to the beats. As the stallion worked his way through the crowds, he looked for anyone who might be able to help him find the Wizard. In the center of the city though, he found the one person he had tried the hardest to avoid the past few days.

Elentàri stood in her stirrups, her pale mare prancing nervously underneath her as she shouted commands to her archers as they arrayed themselves along the breaking wall. Seeing no other alternative in sight, he nudged the stallion towards his nemesis.

"Lady Elentàri," he called over the din, keeping from flinching as her hate-filled eyes caught his own. "My men are ready to fight. Where is Gandalf?"

"Seventh level," she pointed up to where a figure stood silhouetted against the beacon lit by Pippin days before. "We can't reach him, the crowd is too thick."

"Then how do you know what-" he stopped when he saw the look on her face. "My men are at your command."

"We can't open the gates, it's too dangerous. But there is a tunnel that we can use to get our calvary out."

"Any word from Rohan?"

"None. But Gandalf is sure they will come."

"And my brother?" he saw her face fall slightly. "What?"

"Gandalf has lost sight of him." She turned away. "All we can do now is hope. Bring your men to the far side of the wall; there is a small tunnel through the rock. We will come up on the army's left flank." Wheeling her mare around, she disappeared into the crowd. Durian stared after her, her russet hair waving like a banner in the growing wind that surrounded the city.

"Blast." He snarled, reining in his stallion sharply and heading back to his camp. A half hour later, Sauron's troops were already close enough to begin bombarding the walls of the White City with their catapults. Over the din of Orc growls, troll moans and the screams of the city dwellers, Durian and Ari tried to form their ranks of Rangers and Elves into some semblance of a legion.

"Ari, we must go before they block the entrance," Durian pulled up next to her. "We haven't much longer."

She closed her eyes as if listening to far away music, then faced him. "Gandalf will cover us for as long as he can. I would watch yourself if I were you though princeling, you never know when a stray arrow will find its way into your back."

"Dammit Ari," he snarled as she rode up the flank of her warriors. Cursing, he rode down his own lines calling out instructions. As the tiny host moved into the stone corridor, he spared a final glance at the Elvin princess.

"This is not how this was supposed to end," he shook his head. "Elebreth protect her."

Spurring Telume, he raced to the head of the line and led his Rangers into the Battle of Pellanore Fields.


	4. A Battle Joined

Guess what? That's right, I don't own anything save Ari, Durian, Merrill, and Tristan.

Review!

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The battle joined ferociously, the Elves and Rangers soon becoming separated by the hoards of Orcs that swept over them as they escaped the tunnel. No matter how many fell, a thousand more seemed to take their place. Durian fought ferociously, trying to keep his eye on the Elvin commander at the same time. He took a particularly vicious swipe at a taller Orc, severing its head neatly from its shoulders. A shadow fell across the field, then the chilling scream of the Nazgûl echoed across the plains.

"Down!" he screamed, and the men around him ducked as the claws of the beast scathed above their heads. Durian scanned the horizon, seeing eight more flying in from Mt. Doom. Cursing, he wheeled his mount around and tried to find Ari, but she was no where to be seen.

"Durian!" he heard someone yell. Turning, he saw Tristan valiantly hacking his way towards him, face running red with blood flowing from a gash on his scalp. "We must retreat back to the City! The Nazgûl are afoot!"

As he spoke, a flash of white light lanced from the City, driving back one of the beasts that was harrying a Gondorian catapult. The beasts circled higher in response, plucking up soldiers from the levels higher above the wizard.

"We must stay," Durian responded, ducking an ax and killing its owner. "Rohan will come. They must come."

Tristan's face paled, but he nodded and was drawn back into the fray by a warp-faced Orc. Durian resumed hacking and killing, settling into a deadly rhythm. Presently, he became aware of a ringing horn call, quite unlike the horns of the Orc hoards and the warning calls of Gondor. Turing, he blinked when he saw a huge host at the top of the rise, clad in green and carrying the standard of-

"Rohan!" the cheer went up from the men and elves on the field, as the fighting slowed and the Orcs rushed to defend their right flank against the new intruder. For a fleeting second, the field was clear around the elves and men, and he could see clearly Elentàri against the darkness of the sky behind her. Unfortunately, so did one of the Nazgûl, and it struck with astonishing speed. Before Durian could move, she had been knocked off her horse, and the battle swelled again to surround him.

"Ari!" he tried to push his way towards her, but was thwarted by the crush of Orcs retreating before the Rohrrim's onslaught.

The next hours passed in a panicked blur for the Ranger. The Rohrrim and what was left of his and Ari's force fell back before the Oliphants of the Haradrim, but were greatly aided with the arrival of Aragorn and the lost host of the Mountain. He could barely remember seeing his half brother take the field, or the spectacle of the ghost army destroying the remnants of Sauron's great host. All he wanted to do was find Ari and assure himself that she was alive.

"Durian." A hand touched his shoulder, and he turned quickly with his bloodied dagger raised.

"Brother." He lowered it wearily when he saw the haggard face of his sibling. "Congratulations. This is a great victory."

"You are falling off your horse. Who himself looks as if he would fall over." Aragorn ran a fond hand over his muzzle. "This would not have been possible without your men."

"Or Lady Elentàri's," he sighed. "I fear she may have fallen. I should tell her brother."

"This is a most grievous tiding indeed." Aragorn looked deeply troubled.

"Given your leave, I would look for her. I-"

"Ask me nothing brother, for you do not have to explain to me. I shall take Telume here, and give this fine warrior the treatment he deserves."

Durian dismounted slowly, and staggered when he hit the ground.

"You are wounded." Aragorn dropped the horse's reins and steadied his brother.

"It's nothing." He wrenched away his plate armor on his leg to reveal a nasty looking cut that ran from thigh to ankle. "I've had worse."

"And I've seen better." Worry crinkled Aragorn's already troubled face. "I would have you return to the City."

"Aragorn, I must find her. If she has died..." despair fell across his pale features.

"Be careful." Aragorn clapped him gently on the shoulder. "I shall see you when you return. The both of you."

Durian smiled weakly, then stumbled off to where he thought he had seen her fall earlier in the battle. It took him nearly and hour to reach her, between the mounds of dead, a fallen Oliphant, and the searing pain in his leg. Finally, he came to a relatively clear area, where a large beast lay, arrows and sword slashes having nearly severed its head from its neck. Moving nearer, he noticed a crumpled piled of black rags, and a rusted pair of metal gauntlets and foot-covers. Kicking them in contempt, he looked despairingly around for the princess. A groan caused him to spin so quickly he made himself dangerously dizzy-upon righting himself he noticed a slender arm encased in a familiar gauntlet protruding from the carcass of the beast.

"Bless the Valar." He set about shoving the carcass off of her, but when he finally managed to do so he was rewarded with a heart-rending sight. The princess lay in a pool of blood, left arm mangled and twisted from where it had lain under the beast. Her beautiful face was marred by bruises and blood, and a silver-handled knife was deeply embedded in her side. Blood leaked from the corner of her mouth as he knelt next to her.

"Elentàri," he whispered, gently taking her good hand in his own. "Elentàri. Don't die, please. Not now. Not like this."

"Durian?" she croaked, eyes fluttering open slightly before she began coughing wetly. "I....kill..."

"If that's an incentive to live, then fine. You have to live to kill me, come on now!" he was nearly hysterical. "By the Valar Ari, it wasn't supposed to end like this."

Hoof beats broke into his consciousness, and looking up he saw a very blonde Elf riding towards him. The white stallion skidded to a smooth stop beside the kneeling man, its rider dismounting in a fluid, catlike movement.

"You have found her." He knelt beside the fallen woman.

"She's dying."

"The strength of the Valar has not left her yet." Legolas Greenleaf, heir to the throne of Mirkwood and brother to Elentàri passed his hand over the blade in her side. "Morgul blade."

Durian started. "She will pass into shadow." Wrapping his hand in the tatters of his cloak, he grabbed the hilt and yanked the offending object out. As soon as it gleamed in the dying sunlight, the blade dissolved into dust and vanished. The elvin woman let out a choked scream, and began to shudder. Without speaking, her brother swept her gently into his arms and somewhat miraculously remounted without jostling her.

"If I find you had anything to do with this, I personally will make sure that your soul never sees the Undying Lands." Legolas' piercing blue eyes bored into Durian's from his seat atop the stallion before he spurred it back to the City.

Finally alone, Durian fell back on the hard earth. The blade had shot a current up his arm so strong that he could barely feel it. Pulling back his sleeve, he grimaced at the black tattoos that adorned his forearm. Normally a faded grey, the Mordorian letters burned black and seemed to writhe after their contact with the Dark Lord's energy. Sighing heavily, he awkwardly refastened the sleeve over his arm, then let the darkness at the back of his head take him away.


	5. Waiting For Word from the Edge

I've just been informed that I don't own anything here except my four main characters. Drat. I'm gonna go sulk, you enjoy the story.

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In the Houses of Healing, Aragorn and Legolas paced the halls anxiously, as they had for the past two hours.

"You have done your part Aragorn," Legolas said for the umpteenth time. "The king's foil will help them more than anything."

"Yes. But one battle and I have lost the Steward, the Steward's son, my brother, your sister, the White Lady of Rohan, and Merry."

"You have not lost them all to shadow, not yet. Gandalf will do everything in his power to help them." The Elf placed a calming hand on his shoulder. "You should relax."

The events of the past days had taken its visible toll on the future king of Gondor. "I know I should. I just can't seem to find it in my power to do so."

"Then find it in mine, Lord Aragorn." Ioreth, the formidable head healer rounded the corner into their conversation. "A dead king does us no good these days m'lord."

Aragorn suppressed a sigh. "I can seem to do no good wherever I go, no matter the condition I am in."

"That's nary the truth my lord!" Ioreth looked surprised. "Lord Faramir will be up and about in no time. Master Merriadoc is awake and being looked after by Master Peregrine, and Lord Durian has just suffered from blood loss and should be fine by the morrow. Lady Eowyn and Lady Elentàri though m'lord, they are far worse off." She hung her head. "Gandalf says Lady Eowyn will be better soon, but I fear he is still with Lady Elentàri."

Legolas turned a paler shade of white. "Will she live?"

"I cannot say. I fear-" she stopped. "But it is not my place. Gandalf is far more schooled than I in these matters."

"Tell us." The Elf demanded urgently. "What's the matter?"

"I fear that she is too far gone into the Shadowlands, m'lord. She lost a lot of blood, and the blade was embedded for some time. I fear...she may be a Wraith 'ere the night is through." With that, she bowed herself out of their company and fled.

"But she is Immortal. Certainly the power of the Shadowlands has no hold over your kind, or I have never heard so."

Legolas leaned against the cool stone of Minas Tirith. "More often than not, it doesn't. But Ari's is a special case."

"How so?" Aragorn sat himself on a stone bench near a low cut window.

"Ari is not quite Immortal." Her brother sighed. "And I fear that may be the cause of Gandalf's angst."

"Not quite---how come I have never heard of this?"

"It is a very dangerous secret in my family. If the court knew of it, they would throw her to the wolves. And father and I need her too much to keep up the defenses to let them do that. And she is our kin, no matter what the circumstances." He sighed. "It is a long tale, to be sure."

"As I am looking at it, we have nothing but time." Aragorn gestured down the hall. "No one seems to be waking yet."

"When I was young, my mother had a visitor that would come for a few weeks of every year, then disappear until the same time the next year. He was a man, a Ranger actually, with flaming red hair that used to remind me of the autumn leaves. One day he came, left that night, and was never heard from again. A year later, my mother gave birth to Elentàri. None of the nobles knew about the strife between my mother and the King, and applauded the birth of a princess to the hall. Only I and my brother truly knew that Ari was not our true sibling. My father couldn't stand to see my mother thrown out of the court, but could not bear her treason any longer. He forbade her to ever step outside the caverns again as her punishment. I remember seeing her standing at the entrances, just looking at the lush green world outside. She was a wood Elf, and being captive killed her. She wilted away, and no one was ever the wiser of Ari's heritage."

"Does she know?"

"Father told her when she turned 20. She ran away after that, but returned years later and never spoke of it again. I still don't recall ever hearing her say anything about it to this day."

Aragorn looked out the window behind him. "That is unfortunate. Gandalf will do everything he can Legolas, I know if anyone can save her, it will be he."

The Elf turned his face to the rising sun. "I know. But the Shadow still hangs heavy over the land. My soul does not rest easy knowing that."

"Then we shall have to fix it," Aragorn smiled, rising and stretching. "But for now, I suggest rest for the both of us."

Allowing himself to be led down the stone corridor to his room, Legolas stole one last look out of the stone window before leaving the Houses of Healing.


	6. In the Void

See previous chapters for disclaimer. I realize this chapter may be a little far-fetched, but maybe some of ya'll will like it? Reviews are good for that, hinthint.

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_Darkness flowed around her, shrieks of some unearthly creature reverberating in her skull. As she slowly floated back to consciousness, Ari became increasingly aware of the fact that she was no longer on the same astral plane she was accustomed to._

_"Hello?" she tried to sit up, but found that she was frozen in place. The shrieks grew louder, until her sensitive ears felt as if they were about to burst._

_"Stop it!" she screamed, twisting and straining against her invisible bonds. "Let me free! Where am I?"_

_Suddenly, the shrieking stop and she was spun to face a red, glowing eye that hung suspended in the eternal darkness. For the first time in her life, she was terrified as she was sucked into its pulsating gaze._

You will be mine_, a voice growled in her head. Although she knew she couldn't understand the language, it somehow made sense in this alternate world. _My deadliest weapon with which I will destroy Middle Earth

Sauron_. She snarled back in her own voiceless speech._ I thought the Ring was your deadliest weapon.

It is. But they destroyed the Witch King, my greatest living creation. I need an emissary, a way to make them pay for meddling with my plans.

No. I will not serve you.

But you have no choice, elfling. It was fortune that dropped you here in the Shadowlands. Now I can both destroy the world of Men and Elves with one convenient stroke. You will be my Witch Queen, Ari, by your will or not.

_She strained against her bonds, trying to avoid his gaze and the darkness creeping into the back of her mind. _I would kill myself first.

Ah, but you are already dead. _She could feel a twisted smile in his words. _You are between worlds, Elentàri. No one and nothing can stop the process once it has started. By morn in your pitiful world, you will be a wraith, my Witch Queen.

_Ari could feel herself slipping deeper into the darkness that waited to devour her. Before she fell, she could vaguely make out a bright light that washed over the Eye, and sent it screaming wordlessly back into the void from whence it had come. _

Gandalf,_ she thought before she was lost to the void herself._

__


	7. The Morning After

Yep. Not mine. Working on a plan that will eventually end in disaster to get them.

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Durian woke to the sounds of a busy city, something he was unaccustomed to living in the Wild for much of his life. Confused, he sat up quickly, sending his head reeling from the blood rush.

"Elebreth save me," he moaned, leaning back. Apparently having heard his outburst, Ioreth came into the room, looking concerned.

"You should not be up and about for a few hours yet," she scolded, throwing open the shutters and letting in the brilliant morning sunlight, making him wince. "You need to rest."

"I feel fine." He rubbed his head. "Some food and I'll be as right as rain."

"You and your brother," the woman shook her head. "There's really no need for such heroics. You lost too much blood yesterday for me to let you go gallivanting off with him just yet."

"Wait, gallivanting of to where?" Durian tried to fight off her ministrations to his leg. "I'm fine."

"You'll let me look at this leg, or you'll hear nothing out of me." She snapped angrily, swatting his hand aside. Durian sighed and let her look under the bandage.

"It's draining well. Good, no sign of infection." She rewarded him with a smile. "You'll survive."

"I know!" he threw up his hands. "Now, do tell me what's going on! Please."

"Lord Aragorn is bringing a host to the Black Gates this afternoon. He means to draw Sauron out for once and for all." Ioreth's sunny smile disappeared. "We fear that it is a suicide mission."

Durian sat up again, ignoring the protest of his skull. "Then I must go with him."

"You're in no shape to do anything of the sort." The woman tried to force him back down. "You'll only make yourself worse, and I'm not stitching that leg up a second time."

Angrily, the Ranger pushed her aside, struggling to put his feet on the cold stone floor. "This is not your decision my lady. There are forces here beyond even your great knowledge. Now, where is my armor?"

Ioreth was livid, but a glare from her charge froze her tongue in mid-word. "In the armoire my lord. I must say that I object-"

"Yes, yes, I know." Durian grunted, pushing himself up and grabbing unto the bed post for support. "I don't suppose you'd be so kind as to bring it here so I could dress?"

The healer shot him a look laced with venom. "If you can walk there without falling, I will allow you to go."

He sneered. "You could not stop me lady, even if I have to crawl to Mordor on my knees."

Ioreth crossed her arms and glared right back. "That just may be the case, Master Durian."

Grumbling under his breath, he concentrated on putting one wobbly foot in front of the other. Gradually, he let go of the post and swayed slightly on unsteady legs. Taking baby steps, he eventually made it to the armoire, where he turned and grinned at her in victory. "You see? I could do it."

"So you can." Glowering, she crossed and helped him lay out the pieces on the bed. "I still do not like this." Helping him arm, she sighed heavily. "I would have you drink a tonic before you leave, m'lord."

A memory from the night before crossed his mind, and he made a face.

"It will give you strength."

"Then I suppose I cannot object." He swept a small stage bow before reeling back dizzily. "It would be most welcome."

She nodded and headed for the door.

"Ioreth." He said suddenly.

"Yes my lord?"

"What of the Lady Elentàri?"

She paused too long before answering, and his heart sank to his knees. "There were complications, sir."

"Complications?"

The older woman refused to look him in the eye. "Gandalf would be better suited to answer that question than I."

"Is she dead?"

"No one rightly knows sir. Gandalf was up with her all night, but none of us are allowed to go into her room."

Durian passed a hand over his eyes. "I thank you for your help."

"I'll be getting you that tonic before you go down," she smiled wanly and closed the door gently behind her. As soon as he was sure she was gone, Durian fell onto the bed, shaking from the effort of just walking. In his heart, he knew something terrible had befallen Ari, but what could be worse then death for an Elvin princess? He barely noticed when Ioreth returned and made him drink a horrid tonic that scalded the roof of his mouth and made him gag. Thanking her again, he slowly made his way to the Hall, where he was sure his brother would be making his plans. Leaning on the cool stone walls for support, the trip took him nearly an hour.

"Durian?" Aragorn looked up from a map, startled to see his white-faced brother stumble awkwardly into the room. "Legolas, Gimli, catch him before he falls!"

The Elf and Dwarf sprinted to his side just in time, catching him as he collapsed. Guiding him to a chair next to his brother, they stood aside while Aragorn fixed him with a stern glare.

"You should not be about."

"I heard....you were going to the Black Gates." Durian shook his head. "I must go."

"Not in this shape," Aragorn shook his head. "I can't spare you, brother of mine."

"I will come," Durian stared him in the eyes, "By your will or not."

Aragorn sighed. "Gandalf?"

The Wizard turned from his inspection of an engraving on the chalk-white wall. "It should be his choice."

"You are always a help." The future king shook his head wearily. "You should agree that he is in no shape to travel."

Gandalf walked over to where Durian sat, raising a hand over his matted curls and muttering a few words. Slowly, warmth spread throughout his body, and he felt stronger and more clearheaded than ever.

"He will be fine now." Gandalf smiled.

"Wait, Mithrandir. What happened to Elentàri?" Durian grabbed his sleeve as he turned away. "I must know."

Legolas turned away, walking out to the courtyard where the great White tree stood in its dripping sadness. Gandalf's blue eyes followed him, then focused on Durian's worried face.

"She has fallen into shadow," he said slowly, all laughter gone from his eyes. "I fought hard for what is left of her immortal half."

"Immortal half?" Durian looked confused. "Why only half?"

"Elentàri was half mortal." Aragorn said gently. "Though she would not have had us know that."

"So she-" Durian shook his head. "I'm afraid I don't follow."

"When you found her on the battle field, she had been stabbed by a Morgul blade. Had she been a normal mortal, she would have been turned into a wraith. Her immortality allowed her to stay in the Shadowlands, fighting to retain her normal self. But by the time I entered to save her, the Wraith had already turned her mortal half and was working on destroying her immortality. I managed to pull her out before that happened....but I fear that she is beyond any knowledge that I have now."

"So, Ari is half Nazgûl?" Durian asked slowly.

Gandalf nodded sadly. "I have not seen the like in all my many years."

"So what does this mean?"

"We don't know, brother. She may die before we ever get a chance to find out." Aragorn rummaged absently with the maps on his desk. "But I fear we really can't worry about that now. Every day, Frodo and Sam move closer to Mt. Doom with the Ring. We must focus on giving them a clear shot at destroying it, or all that we have achieved here will be lost."

And with that, the topic of the Elvin princess was ended, and talk turned to the assault on the Black Gates. Durian listened with only half and ear, gazing instead at the blonde prince who stood at the pinnacle of the City, arms crossed behind his back, gazing at the fires that had taken the life of his sister.

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Hey, I'd like to know if I'm way off with any of this, so reviews are good!!

Hope you enjoy it thus far!


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